Truth and Light
by IvanKaramazov
Summary: Light doesn't really want to kill L, but he does want to win. This solution isn't perfect, but what is? Romance, if you squint.


Truth and Light

* * *

IvanKaramazov here! Short little thing (comparatively) writen from the fetal position of my bedroom floor to the soundtrack of 'oh my god no they didn't really just kill L did they?' Enjoy the fruits of the fathomless abyss of my utter denial!

* * *

The rain fell heavily, in sheets, individual droplets pelting with nearly the force of hail. Despite this, Light saw that L was looking straight into it, gazing upwards and above unflinchingly with too-wide eyes, even for him. How could he be doing that? It had to hurt. As Light watched, water escaped from L's left eye and rolled down his cheek. Had it not been raining so heavily, he would have guessed it was a tear. Was he staring into the rain simply to hide his tears? Light could think of no other purpose for braving such a storm. Then again, L was more than strange. He might put himself through this for no reason at all.

Then L saw him, and adjusted his gaze curiously and somewhat sadly to the side. L usually wore that look around him. Light thought he was starting to understand it. L had meant it when he called Light the closest he had to a friend; he wanted to trust him, to like him, to simply let himself enjoy his company. But he couldn't. Part of L had always suspected Light was Kira, and he couldn't allow himself to choose to trust Light, and choose wrong. Even when all the evidence seemed to exonerate him, L was just too afraid of being wrong, of being betrayed. He couldn't be betrayed if he never really trusted Light.

Damn him. This could have been so much easier if L _had_ decided to trust him. Light could have gotten closer, caught all of L's mistakes. But L had made enough mistakes. Just enough. Soon enough, Light thought with relish, he would be dead. Soon enough, Kira would be free to continue his work.

But there were a few minutes more yet. L was known for his brilliant moves, for working as though life were a game of chess, and all you needed was a strategy and some forethought to win. He had to be suspecting something, planning something, didn't he?

"What are you doing standing out there by yourself?" Light said analytically, almost to himself.

L lifted a hand up to his ear and craned his neck, unable to hear him on the other side of the roof, but able to recognize that Light had spoken.

"What are you doing standing out there by yourself?" Light asked again, his voice raised.

But L simply repeated the gesture, a near-mischievous smile touching his pale lips. Light grimaced, growling under his throat. Perhaps the rain really was too loud to allow L to hear him from here, perhaps not. Whatever the case, L wanted Light to come to him, to get drenched in this torrential rain. He left the shelter of the doorway and walked out to where L stood near the satellite dish, trying to shield his face at least from the downpour.

"What are you doing, Ryuzaki?" He asked, a little peeved about getting wet.

"Oh, I'm not doing anything in particular, it's just - I hear the bells."

What was L talking about now? Light didn't want to deal with his weird posture and nonsense ramblings, not in the middle of a torrential rainstorm.

"The bells?"

"Yes." He said, and switched his gaze out to the city skyline. "The sound of the bells has been unusually loud today."

Light tried to follow his gaze, tried to find any sign of the bells he couldn't hear. But he saw nothing. Was this another of L's tests? What could L hope to gain? Light was so tired of tests and games and loss and gain. He wanted the game to be finished. He wanted L dead.

"I don't hear anything." He said, hoping for at least a clue as to what L was trying to drag out of him with this bizarre scenario.

But L seemed genuinely surprised.

"Really?" He asked, as though he simply weren't listening closely enough. "You can't hear it? It's been ringing nonstop all day. I find it very distracting. I wonder if it's a church, maybe a wedding or, perhaps, a..."

Light trailed off, losing himself in his own thoughts. But Light was tired of L and his mind games. That's why he was ending it, wasn't he? He was tired of L and his games and the only way to be rid of him was to win the game. To kill L. So of course L was getting at something, of course he had one final move to play. He was L. But Light was Kira. He was confident he could face L's final challenge, if only he knew what it was.

"What are you getting at, Ryuzaki?" He asked, his irritation beginning to show in his voice. "Come on, cut it out. Let's get back inside."

Light would have thought L would be analytical of Light's reaction to his last puzzle, or at least smug that Light didn't seem to be able to figure out what the puzzle was. But L seemed neither of those things. Sadly, L shifted his gaze to the floor.

"I'm sorry." He said, downcast and detached. "Nothing I say makes any sense anyway. If I were you, I wouldn't believe any of it."

What _was_ he getting at? Light narrowed his eyes, which peered out from behind his brown hair, plastered to his head and face by the rain. And all of the sudden, his eyes hurt. All the narrowing of eyes, the suspicion, the analysis. It had never, not once before, tired him. And he didn't feel particularly exhausted in general, physically or mentally. He could probably go and score perfectly on the exams again right now, get into a fight, solve a crime, or run a marathon. But he was just so tired of analysing L. So for once, Light decided not to take him seriously.

"You know," he said, trying to sound the part of bemused friend, "you're totally right. Honestly, most of the things you say sound like complete nonsense. There's be no end to my troubles if I actually took you seriously all the time. I probably know that better than anyone."

"Yes." L said without looking up from the ground. "I could say that's a fair assessment. But...I could say the same about you."

"Hm?" Light grunted. "What's that supposed to mean."

A small, grim smile turned up the left side of L's lips, and he shifted his gaze to Light.

"Tell me, Light. From the moment you were born, has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?"

Was this his test? To see how Light reacted to this? Then Light had to meet it head-on, pass with flying colors. In less than a second, he analyzed it. How would Light react? How would Kira react? How would a normal, innocent person react? What was L looking for?

He couldn't pretend to always tell the truth, that was an obvious lie. No one told the truth all the time. He could go with that. But he should try to show the colors of the morals and sense of justice that were his characteristic.

"Where's this coming from, Ryuzaki?" He asked, without a single tell that his words were contrived. "I do admit, I stretch the truth here and there. However, find me one person in this world who's never had to tell a lie; it wouldn't be easy. Human beings just aren't made to be perfect like that. Everybody lies from time to time. Even so, I've always made a conscious effort not to tell a lie that could hurt others. That's my answer."

L no longer smiled. He seemed even worse now than the downcast state he'd been in before. He seemed closed, steeled. Light suddenly realized what a child he was, building up a brick wall around his emotions. It was easy to forget that L had emotions, sometimes. The way he sat, talked, walked, operated - he was alien, to everyone around him. Light still remembered the first time he'd seen the detective react with some emotion. That emotion had been fear. When Misa's message had mentioned the existence of shinigami, L had thrown his hands into the air and screamed in terror. It had been such an odd sight, and Light remembered it with displeasure. For some reason, this fear had bothered him. Another time came to mind, when L had told Misa and Light he'd been depressed. That had taken Light by surprise as well. L had shown few outward signs of emotion, as far as Light could tell. But it seemed that, behind those bruised, insomniac eyelids, he felt them all the same. Light had just never seen the wall go up in person before.

"I had a feeling you'd say something like that." L sighed. "Let's go back inside. We're both drenched."

Light chuckled a little, surprising himself. No shit, sherlock.

"Yeah." He acknowledged, and headed inside behind L.

* * *

They really were completely drenched. L regretted that, drying his mess of hair somewhat spastically with his towel. He hadn't expected Light to find him. What had he been doing on that rooftop, anyway? Looking for him? L couldn't know. Wouldn't ever know. The bells were ringing louder, and all L could think about were the things he would never _know_. There was a book by Vonnegut on his bedside table that he would never read, a puzzle sent through email by some boy genius in Germany that he had yet to work out. He was struck by a sudden, violent urge to learn to play the piano. There was so much he still didn't _know_! So much he could have known!

He knew he was going to die. Soon. Today. Probably within the hour.

_Tell me, Light. From the moment you were born, has there ever been a point where you've actually told the truth?_

L hadn't been testing him, playing him, analysing him, puzzling him out. L had just wanted to know if he was still playing the game. His answer was undoubtable. It was a perfect answer. He was playing, and L had no more moves left to play with. That's how he knew he was going to die. L only ever stayed alive because he kept himself alive - and now he couldn't. His brain searched desperately for a way to live, but he was entirely in the dark. He didn't know how he was going to be killed, and he didn't know how to prevent it. He couldn't defend himself. He was vulnerable, for the first time in his life, and he knew _someone_ would take advantage of it. Kira would. Light might.

There was still the possibility that Light was not Kira. In fact, it was a very high possibility. The evidence, which Light claimed all pointed to him, actually seemed to exonerate him more often than not. But L just couldn't afford to be betrayed. He had to keep his suspicions. Even if he died - his fingers trembled at the prospect - even if he died, he couldn't allow himself to be wrong.

On the rooftop, he wished Light had just admitted to being Kira. L didn't want Light to be Kira. He liked Light, was able to connect with him. As much as he wanted Light to be innocent, there was no way to know Light wasn't Kira, but there was a way to know if he was Kira. If Light confessed...at least L would know. L's stomach ground itself into knots. He couldn't leave the earth like this! There was so much he didn't _know_!

Looking down, he realized he was gripping the countertop more firmly than necessary. His fingers had lost their circulation, and he removed them from the counter, rubbing life back into them. He breathed deeply. He only had mere minutes left of life, in all likelihood. He could compose himself for that much longer.

He exited into the stairwell, the towel slung over his head, having given up on drying his messy hair.

"Well." He said, grateful that his fear didn't enter his voice. "That was certainly an unpleasant outing."

Light chuckled, and L wanted so much to believe that Light really was his friend to joke with and steal cake from.

"It's your own fault." He pointed out, as though scolding a child. "I mean, what did you expect?"

"You're right." L said softly, then softer: "Sorry."

He watched Light for a few moments. Funny. His final moments, and he was spending them just watching Light dry his hair. He couldn't even think of a way he would rather spend them. It was a good thing Light wasn't looking, because fear shone in L's eyes then. Not just fear of dying, either. Fear that, after everything, he really was going to be betrayed. He had never once given Light his trust...but perhaps he'd accidentally given him something more. His heart, perhaps? It didn't matter. It would stop beating soon enough.

But perhaps it did matter, because L found that he was removing the towel from his mess of hair, approaching Light, who was busy drying his own. L settled into his crouched posture at Light's feet and grabbed one, pulling it closer to examine it.

Light tensed immediately.

"What are you doing?" He asked, somewhat indignantly.

L cursed inwardly. He didn't always recognize what was or wasn't normal, socially acceptable. But he _was_ trying to do a kindness here, so he didn't back down.

"I thought I might help you out. You were busy wiping yourself off anyway."

"Look, it's fine." Light said, his voice still distorted in surprise. "You don't have to do that."

"I can give you a massage as well." L offered, grateful his desperation didn't creep into his voice. "It's the least I can do to atone for my sins. I'm actually pretty good at this."

What was he doing, anyway? Atone for his sins? Light - Kira - was not a god. L had never looked at him that way. He had a god complex, sure. But he wasn't a god. Just a boy.

But apparently, that was all it took to kill him. Just a boy.

L desperately wanted to atone for his sins, whatever they had been. He wanted Light - Kira - to forgive him. To let him live. He felt like a foolish, desperate child, and he hated that the only way he could even think of to save his own life was to prove his value as a foot masseuse. L didn't even understand himself anymore. What exactly was he saying with this? 'Keep me alive, and I'll massage your feet at the end of a long day of killing people and being god'? 'Keep me alive, and I'll recognize your divinity, your superiority'? L didn't want to grovel, to be inferior, submissive. He didn't want to live like that. But he sure as hell wanted to live.

Light looked away before replying.

"Fine. Do what you want."

"Alright." L said, with an air of determined vigor.

This wouldn't save his life. Logic told him that Light wouldn't keep him around as a foot masseuse. But it was the only thing he could think to do, so he was going to give Light the best goddamn foot massage he'd ever given. He lifted the towel up to the sensitive part of the foot on the bottom, drying while he massaged, rubbing upwards and banishing knots that he knew must have been there for years. Light grunted, the force of the massage taking him by surprise.

"Hey!" He protested.

"You'll get used to it." L promised.

And he could see that he did get used to it, could see Light's tense shoulders relax. But that facade, if it was a facade, never fell. No matter what L did, Light was still playing the game. L wanted out. He didn't want to play anymore. He didn't want to die.

He didn't realize at first that he'd stopped massaging. He was lost in thought, in fear. Spiraling into hopelessness. Then he felt a towel brush across his forehead, drying some of the rivulets of water in his nest of hair. He looked up, re-entering reality.

"Here." Light said, drying him off. "You're still soaked."

L felt hallow. A foot massage, and he couldn't even do that correctly. Not without staring off into space. What use was he to Light? To Kira? What was the point to keeping him alive?

There wasn't one. He wouldn't be kept alive. He knew that.

Still, he finished the foot massage.

As he dried the last of the water from outside off Light's feet, he shifted his gaze up to Light, who was staring down at him with...affection? Was this just another piece of his facade? Or did he actually feel for L? L doubted it mattered. Light, Kira, would kill him no matter how he felt about him. They were empirical. Emotions couldn't factor into their logic, into their greater good.

"It'll be lonely, won't it?" He said all of the sudden.

"Huh?" Light exhaled, ever the innocent.

"You and I will be parting ways, soon." He said, stating something both of them must know, but neither was acknowledging.

Then, L's phone rang. He answered it, holding it to his ear with his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes?" He said.

Watari was on the other end.

"L. We got the approval we need. I'll establish a link downstairs so we can tell everyone at once."

"I understand. I'm on my way."

He flipped it closed, not looking at Light as he told him:

"Come on. Let's go Light. It seems like it's all worked out."

He took a few steps down the stairs before a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him, slamming him against the wall.

"Huh - " L gasped at the unexpected attack.

He was used to fighting with Light from when they'd been chained together, but apparently, so was Light. L's arms were awkward and bony, next to useless in a fight. L always retaliated to Light's punches with a strong kick, but before he could even begin the motion, Light was pressing his legs against the wall, restraining them with his own. L's kicks couldn't gain any momentum, and though he tried punching him, his hands refused to clasp into fists, his arms had no strength to them. His fingers remained splayed in disjointed positions, and he couldn't even push Light off of him.

Light had a crusade in his eyes, a fury, a passion. He looked wildly, intensely into L's eyes with his own eyes resembling an animal's.

"What is your name?" He snarled into L's ear.

L slumped against the wall, held up only by Light's restraining. He didn't look at him, at those eyes any longer. It was a harsh sort of life there, but they were so full of life - and L was so completely drained of it. He couldn't look. He stared at his own bare feet.

"Don't you get it?" He sighed, defeated. "You've won. It's over. You don't need to attack me or threaten me or make any more elaborate plots. Sometime soon, very soon, I will drop dead of a heart attack. You don't need my name. I don't know how you did it, but you didn't need my name. Why ask for it now?"

"What. Is. Your. Real. Name." Light hissed.

Light's right hand left L's useless shoulder, confident he either couldn't or wouldn't do anything with it, and darted to the roots of L's mop of hair, pulling his face up to Light's. L winced, and let out a small, much-regretted whimper. Did Kira assault all of his victims like this before he killed them? No. That would have made him so much easier to catch. Light forced L to look at him.

"You've probably guessed that you have somewhere around a few minutes left to live. Even I don't know exactly how long you have. If you want to live, even just a little bit, then _tell me your name_."

What was Light talking about? Light didn't _need_ a name, and he didn't _want_ L to live. For Kira to win, L needed to die. For Light to win, L needed to die.

Unless Light wasn't Kira. It was a possibility, though not one he often entertained. Not one he could afford to entertain. But what if Light wasn't Kira? What if he really did care about his friend? Was actually trying to save him?

But if he wasn't Kira, then why would he need his name?

L didn't need this. He didn't need to die like this. He didn't need Light shouting at him, didn't need to die as anybody but L, the famous detective.

"Ryuzaki, you idiot." Light exhaled, and a sob came with it. Tears mixed with the rain still on his face. "Damn you."

Light crumpled to his knees, releasing L. The very first thing L did was deliver a solid kick to his face, sending him tumbling down several stairs. Light didn't pick himself up, and L stared on, disconnected, as though watching a nightmare. That's what this had to be. Some kind of twisted nightmare.

"You asked me." Light said, his voice tight, strained, drenched in a pain that didn't emanate from being kicked down the stairs. "You asked me if there's ever been a point at which I told the truth. I'll admit, I never saw much point to it. I'm a bit of a pragmatist. Everything is a means to an end, and the truth isn't always the most convenient. Please," he said, and his voice dwindled to a whimper, "allow me one more means. One more end."

"You speak as though you're the one who's dying."

"Ryuzaki - "

"It's Lawliet." L told him, and he didn't fully know why. "L Lawliet."

He supposed he had nothing left to lose. That must have been it. He certainly couldn't be desperately clinging to hope. He thought he'd lost all of that. He was going to die, and the only thing he wanted to have left when he did die was the knowledge that he had never really trusted Light, that he had always suspected he was Kira. He could go to his grave feeling as though he were right. It was a small pleasure. It was his only one.

And he'd just given it up.

He had nothing left. Maybe this had been Light's intention. To rob him of everything he was before watching him collapse into a pile of writhing agony in the grip of cardiac arrest. He'd known Light - Kira - had a god complex, but had never guessed he was so sadistic.

"I must have really pissed you off." L commented quietly. "For you to hate me so."

Light was animated now, tugging at something on his watch. Counting the time to L's death? Or was watch maintenance really such a priority at this time?

Then, a secret compartment popped out of it, containing a small scrap of paper. L knew immediately what it was. He'd suspected that scraps of the death note acted similarly, and here was his proof. Higuchi's name was written there, just his name, no cause of death necessary. _If the cause of death isn't specified, the victim dies of a heart attack in forty seconds._

Light began to write L's name there.

L's eyes widened, and he could hear his own heart pounding, likely the last time he would ever hear it do so. He lunged for Light, who was expecting L's reaction more than L was. He sidestepped, and L couldn't even see the cause of death he knew Light was writing. As he fell down the stairs, tripping over Light's outstretched foot, he knew it didn't take that much furious scratching to write Lawliet.

He stood, righting himself, his hands tense, fingers splayed, unable to form fists. Despite feeling the seconds of his death come closer, he remained outwardly calm. Inwardly, he couldn't believe it ended like this. He had signed his own death warrant. Is that was Light had wanted? Had Kira wanted to make him feel drained and empty, lifeless and powerless? Betrayed?

"Tell me." He said softly, indifferently, almost as though he didn't care. "Do I have time for one more slice of cake?"

Kira didn't answer at first. Then, the stairwell echoed with his voice.

"I gave you twenty-three days." Light said.

L's head snapped to Light's in shock.

"That...That's enough time to reveal your identity. To tell everyone downstairs who and what you are...Kira."

For the first time, Light didn't balk at the accusation. He didn't even react.

"Would you like me to change it?" He said impassively.

Did he want him to grovel for each and every day, for the rest of his life? Would he promise another twenty-three days in return for his silence? Blackmail him with death? Or was twenty-three days all he got? L didn't know which was worse.

No, wait. He definitely knew which was worse. He'd rather live under the thumb of death than in the bowels of it.

Light was looking at his watch.

It occurred to L that Light was lying. What other reason would he have to be counting down? He could see in Light's eyes, he was counting down from forty. L would die of a heart attack after all.

Forty seconds came and went. L waited for agony, but it never came.

There was victory in Light's eyes.

"I got your name down first. If Rem had beaten me to it, even by a few seconds, you would be dead by now."

L felt lost, like a stupid child.

"I don't understand? Rem the shinigami? Why am I not dead?"

Light looked carefully at L.

"If two people possessing different death notes write down the same name, the one who wrote the name down first gets priority. That means my cause of death trumps Rem's, which was probably just a heart attack."

"Rem is trying to kill me?" Then L put it together. "On your orders, I presume. How did she know my name?"

Light shook his head, as though L was more than one step behind the program. L supposed he was. That was what had allowed him to lose this game. He'd fallen behind.

"Shinigami eyes can see the names and life spans of everyone they look at. Rem could see your name. Misa could, too, only she's forgotten."

L nodded.

"The second Kira didn't need a name. Just a face. 'Do you have the eyes?'" He remembered from the correspondence between the two Kiras, and stared down at his feet. He'd felt so clever, back then. "Makes sense. What now?"

"Now, we find Rem's notebook. She could be dead, which would make things easy for us, but it could also be that she didn't die because you didn't, either. In any case, if we can cross out your name with two lines across of it, that note will lose the power to kill you. Then I can scratch out your name in mine."

L looked up at Light again, eyes wide. Was Light toying with him?

"To what end?" He asked, his voice cracking.

And Light didn't have an answer for him, not a proper one, anyway. He glared menacingly, but there wasn't any real malice in it.

"I know your name, L Lawliet. I will use it, if I have to."

"And what do you want in exchange?" L sneered. "I'm a means to an end, right?"

Light looked sadly down.

"No, Lawliet. I'm afraid you're the end."

L felt his heart stop in a much more agonizing way than a heart attack. Light cared for him after all, and he'd allowed it to interfere with his logic and empiricism. L couldn't pretend he didn't care about Light, not to himself, anyway. Light turned for the door off the stairwell, headed downstairs to witness a criminal write in the death note in another experiment of L's.

And L couldn't help it. He couldn't remain impassive, couldn't hide behind his wall, not with this much pain inside him. He called out after Light.

"You're Kira."

And every bit of hurt and betrayal and sadness and longing for something other than what was, every bit of it was caught by his vocal chords, which had rarely done anything besides what's he'd commanded them to do. Because Light was Kira and it hurt so much L could barely stand. Light was Kira and they couldn't pretend otherwise any longer.

Light's hand froze on the doorknob, but he didn't turn to face L.

"The truth is inconvenient." He said.

Then he left Lawliet in the stairwell, wondering what to do next.


End file.
